29 January 2010

and my last couple of days over at habit. time to hand the space over to a new group of voices. and that's the brilliance of it. with each month comes a new collection of words and images. with each entry comes the reminder to acknowledge the small bits of everyday. because these bits, they tend to vanish like the night. you think you'll remember them, but you don't. so many times, you just don't.

a most sincere thank you to emily and molly for having me. 'twas both an honor and pleasure, my friends.

26 January 2010

if, while shopping at the aforementioned thrift store, you happen onto a lime green bowl- buy it. you are practically required by law to buy it. there's also a law that states you must fill said bowl with fresh lemons. because it's january and the law is very clear when it comes to people up against january.

p.s. you might also scrape off a bit of lemon peel and rub it between your finger tips. you might also dab a bit of it behind your ears. you might feel silly but you would only be doing what must be done.

22 January 2010

yesterday I wrote about garlands, banners and bunting over on poppytalk and now I sort of want to drop everything and shift into 24-hour garland-making mode. I mean it. all garlands, all the time. am dangerously close to hanging strings of colorful bits on every possible surface in my house, plus all the barren trees in my neighborhood. am thinking it would not be the worst thing to cover the world with garlands, banners and bunting. especially with ones that have nice things to say.

13 January 2010

2. more promises than I'd care to admit plus a few hearts. one in particular.

3. the ragtop of my dad's '68 blue camaro convertible. after scrambling to the top of the car to hide from boys, I heard a terrific rip and felt my nine year-old body slip through the roof and land with a dull thud in the back seat. which is when I looked up, spied a sliver of blue sky and marveled at the sheer size of the hole I'd created. mere seconds before full blown panic set in.

4. the heel of a favorite vintage spectator pump. most likely purchased, worn (and broken) during what I now refer to as my marilyn monroe phase. also known as my sophomore, junior and senior year of high school.

6. my left arm. after popping the most spectacular wheelie of my wheelie-popping career, I hit a bump in the driveway, went flying over the handlebars of my purple banana seat bike and broke the fall with my left arm. thus, fourth grade will forever be known as the year I broke a bone and rocked the plaster cast.

12 January 2010

doing: a list a week from now until january 2011. starting tomorrow. assorted topics mostly culled from a sweet little site (and book) I love. am approaching this as a weekly writing exercise of sorts-- a soft place to land in the event I lose words or run out of things to say. because ruts are inevitable. and because there's always a list to make. always.

07 January 2010

1. own a bright-colored coat.2. ride the ferris wheel.3. label the polaroids.
4. make paper hats.5. ride my bike downtown.
6. introduce ava to the xanadu album.
7. construct an elaborate indoor fort.
8. get lost at the arboretum.
9. transform the found paper collection.10. make sock puppets with ezra.11. sample dishes from ten portland food carts. 12. attach a decade worth of charms to one bracelet.13. create the quintessential princemix.14. take twenty dance classes.15. travel down the 101.16. unravel the ball of surprises.done
17. make a photo book.18. throw a backyard party.19. take the kids to the drive-in.
20. experiment with pinhole photography.
21. make fifty-two lists. (in process)22. see crater lake.done23. collaborate with ava.
24. type out a manifesto.25. drink chocolate.26. see the city from above.
27. make one hundred paper snowflakes.
28. leave paper snowflakes in unlikely places.29. rearrange the bedroom furniture.done
30. have dinner at delancey.
31. blow bubbles off the broadway bridge.32. make garlands.33. have a show.done34. bake the super epic rainbow cake.done35. wear the dress with the pink and red flowers. outside the house.36. collect paint chips.
37. make fortune cookies.38. expand the record album collection.39. begin work on The Big Project.

04 January 2010

it's a blank piece of paper, 2010. a new box of crayons, a jar full of sharpened pencils. at this point, you can do pretty much anything you want. it's a brand new year, peeps. and it's for the taking. 2010= fresh.

03 January 2010

there's a lovely little blog called habit and I'll be posting over there all month long. photographs of everyday life paired with 30 words or less. I get really excited about things like this. really really excited. and I'm in such good company too. stop on by, if you like.